Lately, I have acquired a strange fixation for perfect crimes. I came across them as I was doing some research for my mystery story. I was surprised to discover how many serial crimes have been committed and remain unsolved, even to this day. One case in particular stuck out to me, and I have been obsessing over it for the past three weeks: the Zodiac Killer.
The Zodiac Killer was a man who killed several people in the Northern California region between December 1968 and October 1969. There seemed to be no connection between the victims, and the identity of the killer is still unknown. Some of the victims of the Zodiac Killer lived, but most of them died.
I spent about two weeks researching about this case. Half of the notebook I bought for class is filled with my notes and observations on the case. I noticed some interesting things about the cases; most of the Zodiac Killer's victims were young teenagers who were out on dates. I thought this was important, so I wrote in bold, red letters on one page and circled it. However, I eventually came to realize that my teenage brain was trying to do more than it is capable of doing. I eventually gave up on trying to solve the murder and instead focused on incorporating parts of it into my story.
Spending three weeks reading about murders and other types of crimes has really got me thinking about life. Although what people like the Zodiac Killer did was heinous and immoral, one has to respect his meticulousness; the man left no evidence behind after he killed, and he even sent cyphers to the police and press to solve the case and he was still not caught. It just goes to show you that human beings are capable of anything. I personally believe that the Zodiac Killer is dead now, either by suicide or natural causes. I think the guilt of taking all those lives probably got to him, because he did eventually stop killing. I wonder if the world will ever find out who is ingenious murderer was.
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